


Galentine's Weekend

by Springmagpies



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AoS Palentines 2020, Background Relationships, Brunch, Cheese Plates, Galentine's Day, Gen, Sleepovers, Wine, but this fic is all about the power of strong female friendships, trashy television
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22707805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springmagpies/pseuds/Springmagpies
Summary: With all of them going to different places for college, Bobbi, Daisy, Jemma, and Elena start up a new tradition. Galentine's Weekend. One Weekend in February where it is all about ladies celebrating ladies.
Relationships: Bobbi Morse & Yo Yo Rodriguez & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 19
Collections: Palentine's Day 2020





	Galentine's Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Galentine's Day!

They had started the annual Galentine’s Weekend during their first year of college. Jemma and Bobbi went to school together but Daisy had gone out of the city to the rival school, which always made for fun useless arguments. Elena was out of state but flew in for the occasion, booking tickets months in advance for the weekend closest to February 13th. 

“It doesn’t have to be on the day, guys. We can make it Galentine’s Weekend,” Elena had said over the phone, the week before they planned the very first Galentine’s. 

“But what about Valentine’s Day?” Jemma had countered.

Daisy had been the one to resolve the dilemma. “Well, if Galentine’s isn’t on the specific day than does Valentine’s need to be?”

And so it became Galentine’s Weekend and Valentine’s day just sort of adjusted itself to whenever worked. Or as Daisy so lovingly put it, “Ovaries before brovaries, babes.”

There was a routine to start Friday night, ordering in pizza and watching whatever trashy television show they could find. However, as the years went on, they added new things to Friday like wine and a lovely cheese spread that Jemma picked out. Daisy also slowly became the regular decider of what television show they were going to watch. Eventually, it just became watching the same show over and over, morphing into “The Best Moments in Reality Television” compilations after they had gotten bored of sifting through the mundane middle stuff. 

The next part of Galentine’s Weekend was Saturday breakfast, which after the inclusion of alcohol became Saturday brunch. Mimosas and waffles and tea and omelets and fruit. It was a dream. They would see a movie after, sometimes an Oscar nomination and sometimes a romantic comedy. It really all depended on the overall mood and what had been discussed at brunch. Sad hangover brunch meant Romantic Comedy and intellectual conversation lead to Oscar nominations. But given that silly bubbly brunch also lead to Romantic Comedies they tended to see those more often.

Sunday was the worst, but a necessary, part of Galentine’s. Elena had a plane to catch and Daisy had to start on her drive home. This meant that they lingered as long as humanly possible at the breakfast table in hopes that time would stop for a bit and let them stick together for a few moments more. They would chat over homemade pancakes with Jemma’s special buttermilk syrup and Bobbi’s perfectly crisped bacon. Elena would make treats for the road and Daisy would take pictures on her phone of the group. It was a bittersweet farewell when they all packed up and drove Elena to the airport. To try and lighten the mood a bit, the women would belt their favorite songs in the car on the way there, but the way back was always quieter. 

It sucked when the normal world sank back in and they had to go back to school or work, so they tried to drag it out even after Elena’s plane had taken off. Daisy always sat in the driveway with Jemma and Bobbi for a good hour longer than she should have, staring out the window at her car with a frustrated look on her face. 

“Who cares if I have class tomorrow,” she always said, her feet held up against the back of the passenger seat so her knees were to her chest, “I’ve got my gals with me today.”

Eventually, after it had gotten dark, Daisy would eventually exit Bobbi’s car and get into her own. She would make some joke as she waved goodbye, sometimes she’d lovingly flip them off, and then Jemma and Bobbi would go back inside the house. Before Jemma got married and Bobbi moved in with her boyfriend, they used to share an apartment just off campus. They would go back and sit together in silence, already missing seeing their friend’s faces.

The next tradition started the year after Jemma, the youngest of them, turned twenty-one. It was the fourth annual Galentine’s Weekend and Daisy got very drunk during the Friday night routine, her class of Rosé hitting her just right and giving her the case of the giggles. At midnight, when Jemma had fallen asleep on the couch with her face scrunched against a pillow, Daisy, Bobbi, and Elena had gotten into her perfectly organized desk, found her stack of sticky notes and gel pens, and began leaving multi-colored notes about the house. They each picked a color of notepads and got to work. In the end, they each got through about half their stack of sticky notes. How they managed to leave over a hundred and fifty notes about the place was anyone's guess. The real question was where they had put them all, the trio not having a single clue as to where all a hundred and fifty went. 

Some were obvious, stuck on the walls, the mirrors, dressers, Jemma’s face. But that only accounted for around a hundred of them. Where the rest of them went became a sort of game. For weeks after, Jemma and Bobbi would find the little squares of paper all about the apartment: in the fridge, in the dishwasher, on the toilet seat for some reason. There were some in the pantry, the sugar container, boxes of tea, behind the television, in books, in drawers, wrapped around silverware. The best by far was the one that had somehow been placed inside Bobbi’s battery powered toothbrush that had a little llama with a speech bubble saying “Aah, you found me!” on Daisy’s yellow paper.

“How many of my sticky notes did you use?” Jemma had asked on the group chat, three weeks after Galentine’s Day. She had thought she had found all of them only to be pouring a bowl of cereal and finding one in her bowl of cornflakes. 

“I don’t know,” Daisy responded.

“A lot,” Elena replied.

“Yep, definitely a lot,” Bobbi added.

Some of the notes were sweet while others were a bit more not safe for work. There were also a few drunken drawings that made zero sense to anyone. Why all of Daisy’s smiley faces had three eyes, no one really knew. 

The next year it happened again and the year after that and eventually it just became part of the tradition. It was like finding eggs on Easter morning.

Jemma had gotten married to Leopold Fitz seven years after the first Galentine’s Weekend. They moved into a cute little house just outside the city but close enough to campus so their commute wasn’t too bad. She was working on her second Ph.D. and Fitz taught a few Engineering classes now and again. 

The house had a nicely sized living room with a pullout couch and the guest room was big enough for two people not to feel squished. For Galentine’s weekend, they decided to kick out Fitz and eventually it became part of the routine. Fitz, however, didn’t seem to be too put out by the arrangement. In fact, he always got rather excited; it meant he got to go play video games or D&D with the other husbands and boyfriends. He, Mack, Hunter, and Lincoln had become pretty good mates after five years.

Galentine’s Weekend continued as usual even as the women continued to grow as people. Some things changed a bit. Their pallets got more sophisticated, with fancier cheese and more expensive wine. They also tended to go to brunch later, not holding their wine as well as they used to. They still did makeovers, though, just with higher quality makeup. Everything was pretty much the same, just a bit older and a bit more elevated. Well, except for the sticky notes and trashy television. That never aged. In fact, it seemed as though the sticky notes got even more unsafe for work and even more ridiculous. And they also didn’t just stick within the circle.

The first Galentine’s after Jemma and Fitz moved in together, Fitz had found many sticky notes with his name included along with some very… lovely drawings. However, as the years went on Fitz found them more and more amusing.

“Hey, Jems?” Fitz said one Monday morning after a Galentine’s Weekend.

“Yes?”

He stuck his head out through the open bathroom doorway, his head still ruffled from sleep but his face cracked into a sideways smile.

“I found a sticky note.”

Jemma put her head against the back of the couch and groaned. “What does it say?”

“Well,” he said, a blush running up his neck and across his cheeks, “It says, and I am quoting this from the paper directly, ‘Fitz has a really nice bum that deserves to be squeezed.”

“Oh, God.”

“Luckily, it is on your color paper and in your handwriting. Otherwise, I would be a little more concerned.”

A few new traditions also popped up as the Galentine’s Weekend tradition itself continued. At some point gifts started getting exchanged, once they had a bit more money to spend on things other than food, school, and rent. They never bought anything big and everything was always matching but slightly personalized. One year Elena got everyone matching mugs but they all had a personalized touch to them, filled with the recipient's favorite candy. Things like that.

There was one Galentine’s Weekend, however, where all plans accidentally went out the window when Bobbi brought along a one thousand piece Disney Villains puzzle. They had started it Friday night and just couldn’t stop. Granted there was still wine, cheese, chocolate, and “Most Outrageous Moments in Reality Television” playing in the background, but they had stayed up until three in the morning and completely overslept. This meant they missed brunch and the movie. But, being the smart and devoted group of women they were, they simply ordered breakfast from IHOP (having Hunter drop it off), rented  _ The Devil Wears Prada _ , and continued on with the puzzle, finishing it at five o’clock in the evening with immense satisfaction. Jemma even went as far as framing the thing and hanging it up in her and Fitz’s home office. 

One very special Galentine’s Day, the tenth anniversary of the event, marked a very important step into adulthood. They got to meet Elena and Mack’s newborn baby for the first time. They had been so busy with work and Ph.D.’s that they hadn’t gotten the opportunity to fly out to Los Angeles and meet him, but Galentine’s seemed like the perfect opportunity. 

“Oh my goodness, he’s so cute. Hello little Alphie,” Daisy said, wiggling her fingers at the baby over Jemma’s shoulder, which she poked with a single pointer finger. “And soon there will be another baby to coo over.”

Jemma readjusted her grip on the little baby boy, balancing him above her rounded belly. “Yep, soon enough.”

“Oh, look he yawned,” Bobbi said, shoving Daisy over a bit. 

Jemma ignored the shoving going on behind her and glanced over at the baby’s father. “He looks just like you, Mack.”

“But, he’s got his mother’s spirit. I can already tell,” Mack said. He was waiting by the door with a broad grin on his face and the baby carrier at his feet. He had been put in charge of baby duty for the duration of the weekend. But, he wasn’t too put out as he had three other men to help him. 

“You ready to go, Turbo?” Mack said, coming over to take the baby from Jemma.

Fitz stood up from where he sat next to his wife and inhaled deeply. “Yep.”

“The practice will be good for you, Fitz,” Mack assured his friend, his baby boy slowly falling asleep on the broad shoulder. 

“Firstly,” Fitz had said, “my daughter isn’t due for another four months and secondly, what makes you think I haven’t been practicing? Jemma’s brought home full on tomes on parenting.”

Jemma quirked an eyebrow. “Very helpful tomes.”

“Yes,” he kissed her cheek, “very helpful.”

That particular Galentine’s Weekend was much more subdued. There was far less wine for everyone except Daisy-- “I’ll drink for you, Jems”--but there was still good cheese and bad reality television. They also let a very tired Elena sleep in a bit instead of dragging her out of bed for brunch. Daisy no longer lived far and Mack and Elena had taken the week off to visit so there was no rush out the door. Instead, they happily enjoyed their time together as best friends, reminiscing, gossiping, and enjoying Galentine’s Weekend.


End file.
